


Blind Decisions

by GlitteringKitten



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Get Together, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 15:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitteringKitten/pseuds/GlitteringKitten
Summary: Phillip Carlyle has accepted his role in the circus now that Barnum has returned. It might not be the role he had hoped for, but he's happy to follow it through - because he knows it's where he belongs. But when Phineas offers him something more fulfilling, Phillip is reluctant; and Phineas won't take no for an answer. Of course, Phillip finds it hard to resist the man with a silver tongue... especially when it's offering him everything he really wants.





	Blind Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I’ve written anything to completion, so in a way I’m glad this fandom took my by the throat and wouldn’t let go. Dedicated, as it should be, to my Penguins, who put up with my lamenting, and with the most ridiculous quest to understand 19th century underwear (which was inevitably unnecessary anyway).

 Once the elation of the opening number has worn off, and the artists are once again wow-ing the crowds, Phillip feels his breath return. It isn’t that he’s been holding it in – no, he couldn’t perform in the ring like he did if he’d held it in – but the feeling of _living_ fills him once more. Recovery from the fire had sucked out every last ounce of life he’d had left inside and he’d been doing nothing but existing since; grafting and working on getting his family back on track. It was only then, when Barnum had held out the hat to him, inviting him back into the main fold, that it had felt like they were safe again. That _he_ was safe again. That his home was rebuilt, and his life could carry on.

As he watches Anne fly through the air, pink wig and purple costume catching the light and making her glow, his heart tightens; a heavy throb of loss building just below his throat. They’d not come out of the fire unscathed, and though they’d tried to make it work, they’d both agreed they couldn’t be together in that way. The intensity they felt for one another was too sharp, too raw after the initial flames of passion had died down. And though it had hurt at first, and ached even now; they both knew, as the dust had settled around them, that they’d made the right choice.

 She swings past again, the smile that lights up her entire face aimed solely at Phillip, a wink to show she can see him even in the dark. He mirrors the action in reply, nodding slightly to her. Yes. He knows they’re better off this way. The arguments they’d been having were a result of their clashing honesty, a desire to be truly open with their feelings. The problem Phillip had had was that his honesty – his true honesty - would eventually reveal to her exactly why they shouldn’t be together. But it had taken time for him to admit, and even now, thinking of the night of their argument unnerves him.

 ~

 “ _You would think so little of me that after everything, you were just some ‘passing fancy’? A rebellion that I’m already over? What kind of man do you think I am?”_

 “ _An incredibly privileged one! A man who doesn’t understand how much I’m putting on the line here, just to even be seen with him. So forgive me if your recent behaviour makes me think so little of you, but perhaps, Phillip, if you’d give me a better reason, I’d be able to understand and accept that what you’re saying is true!”_

 “ _It’s-” Anne holds her hand up, stopping him before he even starts to argue._

 “ _Don’t throw me a line, Phillip. I’ve been working amongst people who lie through their teeth to survive all my life. I know what they look like, and so help me God, if you lie to me now, about this? We’ll be through. Permanently.” Phillip stares at her, her eyes blazing with indignancy, meaning every word. The caravan around them seems almost suffocating in the silence that follows, waiting for him to take the wrong path, say the wrong words. He can see the elegant dress she wore to the theatre hanging on a rail behind a curtain, next to her costumes. So out of place, so carefully created just for her, sewn together by her own hand with the help of her family. The shattering loss of it amongst the collection of who she was on stage burns through any lies he thinks he can produce, and he shakes his head._

 “ _You’re not a passing fancy, Anne. I care for you. Genuinely.” He pauses, eyes travelling back to meet hers. “And you know your own worth, so you don’t need me to tell you how beautiful I find you. You captivate me. Truly you do. Everything about you is so much more than the perfection I should seek in a partner. And you know I mean this; you know I’m not lying.”_

 “ _I do.” Her words are solid, taking in his actions, his movements – carefully reading the man before her to search for the lies._

 “ _But Anne, we don’t work together. Not like this. You’re smart enough to know that. I know you are. And I can’t risk having you lost to me forever.” His reaches out for her hands, gently caressing the rope-scars and roughened skin. She allows him the touch, before slowly pulling away._

 “ _I don’t know why-”_

“ _I do.” He interrupts, not giving her a chance to finish. With one slow movement, he tugs her towards him, one hand rising up to caress the falling locks of hair around her face. The fury dissolves in her eyes; changing into perplexity. Unease surrounds her features as he continues,“If I tell you- when I tell you – not if, you deserve more than an if- I … I can only ask that you remember where I come from, and the life that was carved so heavily in stone before I came here. Who I was. Where I was heading.”_

 “ _Phillip-”_

 “ _I hope... that in time you’ll forgive me.” His fingers clasp around hers, eyes watching as they interlace together, the rough darkened skin contrasting with his soft, ink-stained fingertips. “I’ve fallen for someone else. I never intended to, and they’re no more perfect for me than you. Less so, in fact. Atrocious. A match that could never end well, nor start that way. I’m certain nothing will come of it.” Anne stills, her frame slowly straightening as he toys with her hand further, words continuing without her consent. “But this is the secret that tears us apart. You wanted me to tell you the truth.”_

 “ _You expect me to forgive you for this? To say thank you for your honesty? For making a fool of me?” She pulls her hand back, the movement sharp and calculating as she tries to twist herself away from his closeness._

 “ _No – no, I don’t- but there’s more-”_

 “ _I don’t want to hear it from your lips. I don’t want to hear it at all.” She takes a step backwards, falling into the table beside them, losing her footing and stumbling. He reaches to help, but she rights herself, knocking his hand back, the anger beginning to return. Though she waves him away he reaches for her once more, taking hold of her wrist with a loose grip that could easily be broken if required._

 “ _Just one more truth, Anne. Then – but not before. Please let me say this to you, so you know. So you understand. I haven’t lied to you, have I? You’ve told me you’d know.”_

 “ _I almost wish you had. Let go of me, Phillip.” Immediately he retracts his hand, the words almost scalding him in the process. He steps towards the door, taking it as his cue to leave. She caresses her wrist carefully, watching him, as though he had grabbed her aggressively._

 “ _It’s Barnum.” Phillip states, as he reaches the door. He can hear the tension in his own voice as he admits it aloud. Behind him Anne lowers her head, a flush across her cheeks as he continues. “The person I fell for over you.”_

 “ _Charity?” The question is soft, too soft. As though she already knows the answer, has rightly put the conversation in the order he had intended it and come to the true conclusion - but needs to be proven right before her reactions match as they ought. He glances over his shoulder to her, seeing the desire to accept his answer as fact, whatever he presents to her._

 “ _If it were only that simple.” Phillip reaches for the handle, facing away from her. He confirms her suspicions with one last word. “Phineas.” He’s about to leave when he hears her speak once more, just as softly as before, all anger gone and her voice taking on the sound of someone losing their train of thought._

“ _But he’s – he’s a man, Phillip.”_

 “ _And now you understand why I couldn’t say as much before.” Phillip faces her once more, watching her eyes stare holes into the wooden floor, the ceiling, the table - anywhere but near him. “There’s something unfixable in me. When I met you, I thought, she’s the one. She’ll fix me. But… the truth is, I don’t think you can make me a better person. And I don’t want to drag you down here with me when you’ve every chance to find someone who won’t. I’m sorry.” Finally she meets his eyes, unshed tears filling her own, a firm line for her lips._

 “ _So am I.” She states, nodding with intent towards the exit. Phillip takes one more glance towards her, then disappears out of the door, hoping that this won’t be the last talk they’ll have._

 ~

He had feared, after that argument, that he had already lost her. Not because of his confession, which was damning enough, but because of the wound he had inflicted on her pride. What woman would accept she had lost out to a man? His eyes follow her around the ring, delicately balanced atop a white horse. She lifts a leg, turning to face the audience as the speed increases, the horse cantering faster and faster until finally she leaps through the sky to grab the ropes above, flying majestically and leaving a sparkling trace of glitter as she catches herself in the air. The crowd around them gasp, startled to find her hanging upside down from one leg high above them. The awe that falls over the audience reminds him exactly what had saved their friendship; Anne was not just any woman.

~ 

 _Days pass before Anne comes to see him in his own caravan; and though he’s wanted to seek her out, he knows better. He made a promise, although only to himself, to give her as long as she needs to come to terms with what he’s said. Even if she chooses to tell the world, expose him for the unnatural desires that no man should have, he’s given her that right. So he’s pleased, in a way, to see her turn up at his door, although the sudden launch straight into the conversation winds him, giving him no chance to catch his breath from the initial relief._  

_“I can’t fix you, Phillip,” she starts, putting her bag on the table and sitting down as though she’s been invited to. “And I’m not going to try, so don’t ask me to.” She folds her arms across her chest, the stern tone softening somewhat as she glances up at him. “But I don’t think you were going to, were you?”_

  _He joins her, leaning across the table to lessen the distance between them._  

 _“I feel so strongly for you, Anne. But-” she shakes her head, holding her hand up to stop him from continuing. Her shoulders betray her calm posture, tensing at the mention of his feelings for her._  

_“I can’t talk about us. Not yet, Phillip. Not -” her eyes blink back unshed tears, and she looks away from his face until she regains her tight composure again. “But I’m here for you. I care for you. I’m not going to tell anyone.”_

_“I never thought you would,” he replies, a sad smile that she would think he’d assume such a thing. “I trust you.”_  

_“This is why they called you a scandal, isn’t it? I’ve heard the rumours, the ones from before. I always wondered what could cause such gossip, given your family reputation. Your plays …” she trails off, not wanting to sound too critical. The sadness disappears from his face, and he laughs softly._

_“Never seemed that shocking? No. They… met the criteria. Nothing too shocking there. But what man my age isn’t already married, with an heir on the way? Where’s the continuing legacy of the Carlyle name?” He snorts, disgust lacing the words, “That I never seemed to desire dalliances with daughters at first seemed a sign of great etiquette, good manners. So many people praised my behaviour, when I was younger, while snidely implying I wasn’t up to the job. But…” faltering, he shakes his head. “Even that was acceptable.” He stops, pausing to retrieve a bottle from the shelf behind him, two glasses in hand. He pours one for himself, and offers the second to Anne, leaving it on the table as she refuses. The liquid disappears down his throat quickly, too quickly, and he pours himself another. Anne takes the bottle from him, as if to pour her own, then sets it aside, out of reach, her gaze steely as he begins to protest._

_“Phillip,” she warns, “I’ll listen as long as you speak, but don’t expect me to listen as your words disappear into that glass.” She gives a pause, then adds, “can I ask… what makes you so sure? From what we- ” she colours, then continues as though her words had never started that way. “If you’ve had so few dalliances, as you call them, then how can you know?”_

_“Everybody has an act, remember? But we all know who we are behind that act, Anne. You knew it the moment you met me - saw straight through mine.” He leans back, hand cradling his drink close to his chest, stealing the warmth from the whiskey inside by touch alone. “Did you never consider how easily Barnum pulled me into this world?” Anne snorts, relaxing a little into her seat._

_“Barnum has a silver tongue, he could talk a blind man into buying spectacles. No, I just thought-” she coughs a little, covering her mouth with her hand. She doesn’t meet his eyes for a moment, trying to hide what appears to be an embarrassed smile from his view. Finally she returns her gaze to his, “forgive me Phillip, but you can understand how it looked to us; a man pulled in from the higher classes to pave our way? I just assumed you’d been hoodwinked.” Unable to stop himself, Phillip laughs, a sharp bark that’s followed by a wry smile._

_“I may well have been. Barnum… seduced me with words. What person could resist him?” He took a sip from his glass, looking over to where his scarf and hat hung, remembering the night Barnum had met him. “I felt -I felt he knew.” The smile disappears, a sadness filling his face as it goes. “But once I signed up, I realized he just knows how to play people. He knows what to say to close a deal, to get what he wants. And - you’re right. He wanted me to pull in the upper societies, bring more money into his circus.” He drains the remainder of his drink, ignoring her look of concern. “Don’t let me mislead you, there’s no regret here, buying into the dream he sold me. He was right. I belong here, this is the family I always needed. But-”_

  _“But the dream he sold you isn’t as achievable as ours?” She replies, mirroring his sadness in her voice._

  _“If asked, would you do it all again? In a heartbeat. Of course. No question. The only thing I’d do differently…would be more honest with you from the start.” He pauses, leaning forwards, softly adding, “I can’t say sorry enough, Anne. I never meant to hurt you.”_

  _“I know. I can see that. And… I will forgive you. In time. I understand the feelings of wanting someone you can’t have.” She reaches across to take his hand, gripping it tightly as she blinks back her own tears. “I appreciate you telling me this now, rather than later, however much it hurts.” She bites her lower lip, breathing slowly, “and it does hurt, Phillip. I won’t lie to you. But. At least this… I know there’s nothing I could’ve done. And that helps.” She stands, his hand still in her own, and presses a kiss to his forehead. He can see the bottle carefully tucked away in her bag as she steps back, nodding to him as she turns to leave._

  _“I’ll be back,” she promises, “and we’ll talk. But right now, that’s… this is all I can give you.” He watches as she goes, his head heavy with grief but the relief light against his chest. He knows, despite the rapid exit, that she is not lying. That she’ll be back._

 ~

“If you stand here much longer, you’ll be stuffed and put out amongst the giraffes,” Anne’s voice is teasing, the sparkle of her eyes bright from the applause she’s just left in the ring. “Isn’t your part of the show over now? Shouldn’t you be working on the ticket sales?” She nods towards the back of the tent, where his and Barnum’s offices were stationed.

 “I wanted to see you fly, is that such a crime?” He laughs, nudging her with his shoulder.

 “It is when you don’t pay for the privilege.” She jokes in reply, heading towards where they’d set up a dressing area; disappearing behind a curtain and laughing as she goes. Phillip smiles. Grateful isn’t strong enough a word for how he feels to not have lost her. Though her more recent insistence that maybe he was wrong about Barnum just wanting his connections has made him almost regret letting her know his feelings for the older man. She always stops short of pushing him into saying anything, but her pointed looks at every opportunity are beginning to give him hope that he shouldn’t even be thinking about entertaining. Especially now he spends so much more time in close quarters with Barnum, organising the main accounts. It’s exactly why he needs to get on with the ticket sales while Barnum is out of the office; the distraction of his presence in their close quarters is always a dangerous tightrope. With one more glance to the centre of the ring, he heads off to start paperwork he hopes to complete before Barnum returns from the ring.

 

—- x —-

 

It surprises him to find the older man already in the office, sitting behind his desk and staring at some papers, his red ringmasters coat hung on the coat rack, waistcoat hung over the back of his chair. When he shuts the door behind him, Barnum barely glances his way, so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t even notice his presence. So much for Anne’s theory that there could be something there. Phillip sits down, taking hold of the ticket sales lists for the evening, beginning to total up the costs and the incoming from the merchandise sold, what needs replacing and what needs reinventing. It takes all of his will power not to glance over at the other man, watch him work. Once he starts, though, he drifts into work mode, thinking and planning of ways to improve their revenue. Time passes without comment, and when he finally looks up again, he’s shocked to see how long it’s been, and more so that Barnum is still there, watching him work.

 “You should take a break, get something to eat.”

 “I could say the same to you.” Phillip replies, putting down the pen he’s been using, rubbing the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension building there. “I think we need to reconsider some of our merchandise, it’s not selling as well as we hoped.”

 “I’ll take a look in the morning.” He rests his head on the back of his hands, elbows on his desk supporting them. “Are you eating enough? You’re more slight than I recall, lately.”

 “I’m still recovering, I guess.” Recalling Anne’s pointed looks, he adds with amusement, “it surprises me you’d notice. I didn’t realise my health was of such interest to you.”

 “You think I saved your life just to watch it dissipate from hunger?” Barnum laughs, his mirth betraying the concern in his eyes. He reaches down into the drawer beside him, pulls a package out and throws it to him. Without thinking, Phillip catches it carefully, well aware that it could be anything. He finds it to be a package of sandwiches wrapped carefully, just something homemade, and raises his eyebrow in query. “Charity always makes me extra. She worries about you.” The tilt of his voice indicates to Phillip that it’s not entirely the truth, and though he could press, he chooses not to, instead taking a small bite in gratitude.

 “Actually, while you’re here, I had something I wanted to discuss with you.” Barnum leans back in his chair, eyes roaming openly over the office, stopping only to linger on his coat, before sitting up again. “I want you to take control of the circus.” Phillip stops eating, mind taking the words in and twisting them around, trying to understand where they’ve come from. He places the sandwich down and sits back, contemplating the offer.

 “And by control… you mean?”

 “Be the ringleader. Take the role and play the part. Lure people in with your baby blues and make them want to believe in the magic we sell.” Barnum gets up as he speaks, hands enhancing the words, until he reaches the front of his desk and perches there, staring across at the younger man. Phillip laughs, shaking his head.

 “And what will you do? You live to be centre stage, Phineas, I can’t take that from you.” He shrugs, “besides, we barely survived when you left before, and I was left in charge then. It’s a bad business decision.”

 “No, I left you alone then, there’s a difference. Now you’d be in charge with my full support.” Phillip is shocked to see the guilt ride across Barnum’s face, the haunted look that fills his eyes. “I’ll still find acts, watch the performances, work in the background...but you’ll be in charge.”

 “Phin,” carefully, as if speaking to one of the lions they keep, Phillip starts to decline the offer, not wanting to take the helm alone again. “It’s …” He trails off, glance wandering to where Barnum’s red coat hangs. “I just don’t think…”

 Barnum folds his arms across his chest, eyeing the other man carefully as his protests die in his mouth. His eyes soften, the excitement of his offer evolving into concern, brow furrowing as he hears what Phillip won’t say.

 “What are you so afraid of, Phillip? You own half of the circus now, don’t you want to take half the lead? You’ve earnt the right. I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

 “But you - you saw what happened before. The fight. The fire. People nearly _died_.  You nearly lost everything.” He hides his face in his hands, memories of flames surrounding him, the fear on everyone’s face as they ran from the building, the sounds - everything just so present, and for a moment he’s back there again, calling desperately for Anne, wishing Barnum was there to help. And then he was, and it was a miracle. Because of course he was, Phillip sighs, of course he was there to save him again. “I never truly thanked you. For saving me.”

 “No need. You’d have done the same. You _did_ the same. It’s how you ended up in there in the first place,” the look of guilt returns to Barnum’s face, and he rubs his arm, the only obvious sign of his unease he shows. “That will never happen again, Phillip. You have my word.” His gaze meets Phillip’s, promise and resolve causing the younger man to flush with embarrassment.

 “I didn’t mean… not just from the fire, Phin.” Barnum’s guilt transforms into amusement, shrugging the seriousness of their discussion off and smiling.

 “I sold you a dream, Phillip. You made it come true. You just had to have the courage to take the step. Let’s not give me too much credit.”

 “What’s this, Barnum, a shred of modesty from your lips? You really have changed.” He laughs, taking another bite of his sandwich, eyes flicking back to the paperwork on his desk. He’s surprised to hear the soft, serious words that follow his jest, not seeing the effect this words have on the other man.

 “I see things differently now. There’s too many things my cavalier attitude could’ve cost me. Too many people I could’ve lost.”  

 “Charity?” A wry smile passes his lips, and he shakes his head, but doesn’t explain further, letting Phillip consider the answer for himself. Unable - no, refusing - to think who else he could mean, Phillip changes track, bringing the conversation back to Barnum’s suggestion. “Is that why you’re taking a step back then?”

 “Partly.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, stopping short of sitting back on the desk entirely, but clearly contemplating it as an option. After a few seconds of attempting to get comfortable he gives in and pulls himself back, legs hanging slightly off the floor and hands resting back to support him. Phillip deliberately ignores how the action pulls his trousers tighter around his thighs and finishes his sandwich, brushing the crumbs off his own desk carelessly.

 “What’s the other reason?” He asks, pulling a handkerchief out to wipe around his mouth and glancing up to meet Barnum’s gaze.

 “You.”  Phillip says nothing, too stunned to reply. Barnum chuckles lightly, nodding. “I told you, you’ve earnt this, Phillip, the right to be in control, the right to be in charge. My being here is … it’s just a distraction, causing you to second guess every decision. Wondering what I think, whether I agree, before just rolling ideas out. Every decision you made since I left has been right, Phillip. Each choice has been strong. You were doing well before I came back, and I know - I know it’s because you had to. But now you don’t have to, it’s like you’ve given up and decided you don’t need to.”  He shrugs, looking briefly down at his desk, as if to give Phillip a chance to interrupt, but then continues talking, refusing him that same chance. “You chose to join our circus with such determination and desire for something new, and you took hold of it with both hands. For some reason, you’ve lost that recently, and I don’t know how else to get that version of you back.”

 “Maybe I’m just deferring to the knowledge of the expert?” Phillip jokes, refusing to afford Barnum’s statement with the seriousness he intends it to have. Barnum frowns in reply, sitting upright and folding his arms across his chest. “Phineas, you can’t be seriously considering this? Leaving us in the lurch again, hoping that I’ll succeed where I didn’t before?”

 “I want you to understand, I’m not abandoning you. Not this time. I have faith that you know what you’re doing, Phillip. There’s no reason you can’t do this, if you just let yourself try. I want you to make choices without fearing any repercussions, without thinking of what I would do, what I think. You know these ropes inside and out, you don’t need my approval.”

 “You’d be surprised.” The words escape before Phillip can stop them, and he winces, wondering how far over the line he’s stepped, whether he can laugh it off. Make Barnum think he was joking, not admitting a truth he wasn’t sure he should ever speak aloud.

 “What happened to risking it all? I feel like ...” Barnum sighs, his voice heavy with regret, “I pulled you away from the life you knew to bring you freedom and now you’re just in a new cage, and I’m the one trapping you in. It’s not what I wanted for you, Phillip.”

 “Maybe I’m not made to be truly free.” Unable to deal with such disappointment from Barnum any longer, Phillip gets up and strides across to where he’s a bottle kept hidden. He pulls it from the cupboard, turning swiftly back to his desk, stopped on the way by Barnum’s leg, blocking his way.

 “Phillip,” it’s almost a plea, but he can hear the frustration from Barnum’s voice pressing against his chest, growling his name out.

 “Barnum, this is ridiculous. You can’t just make decisions on my behalf, thinking they’re for my own good, when it could cost us both everything. And not just us - everyone. I’m sorry, but I can’t - I won’t take it on, you’ll have to just stay. I appreciate the offer, but it’s not going to happen.” The words come out sharply, echoed with bitter laughter, and a sidestep towards his desk, around Barnum’s leg. In an instant Barnum reaches out with a hand, holding him still, grip tight on his shoulder.

 “Why are you so insistent that you’re not up to this? You ran plays for years before you got involved with us, you’ve more knowledge of how to reel people in than any of us. You know how to deal with crowds, you know how to run the circus. You were doing fine without me here, why is it so different now that I’m back?”

 “Maybe I don’t want to give you the ability to leave again, Phineas. Have you considered that by handing this over to me, regardless of what you might say, you’re giving yourself the ability to fly the coop at any moment?” He shrugs Barnum’s hand off his shoulder, anger showing on his face as he stares the other man down, “I can’t put everyone in the position of knowing you might just leave. I won’t do that to them. They need you here.” He bites back the words that threaten to follow, forcing his mouth to take a different route. “This is your family, Phin, you don’t get the choice of just handing it over to someone else.”

 “ _Our_ family, Phillip. You own half of it now, don’t you think they want to see you succeed? And I’m not - I’m not handing it over. I told you, I’ll still be here. I’m not leaving again.” He shifts forward, grabbing both of Phillip’s shoulders, forcing him to face him. Phillip meets his eyes defiantly, then looks away, lips pursing, hand so tight around the bottle he wonders if it might break. “Look at me, Phillip. _Talk_ to me, for goodness’ sake.” After a moment of staring away and refusing, he relents, slowly lifting his head to meet Barnum’s concerned gaze.

 “I’m not ready to take that much responsibility on, Phineas, that’s all there is to it. I’m sorry. I know you want time to spend with Charity, watch the girls grow up - make up for what you’ve missed. I understand, and you know I’ll work with you to make that as easy as possible. But I can’t do this alone.” He reaches up to take hold of Barnum’s hand off his shoulder, but Barnum grips his fingers in, making the action pointless and leaving Phillip’s hand atop his.

 “You won’t be alone, Phillip. I promise, on my life, I’m not going anywhere. But I also know you can do this. Don’t let my mistakes cut you short of your own abilities. You spent months making the circus work, I know you’ve still got it in there. You just need to let yourself try, make some decisions and see where they take you.” Phillip shakes his head in dismay, laughing softly, his grip loosening around the bottle as he puts it on the desk beside Barnum.

 “You don’t get it. Every decision I made when you were away was made with you in mind, Phin.” Barnum smiles, letting go of the younger man as the tension in the air disappears, leaning back again and toying with the drink beside him.

 “Well, clearly I’m a good influence.” Phillip can’t help but snort in reply.

 “The best,” he laughs softly, “and the worst.” Barnum’s smile widens, and he offers the bottle up.

 “How about a toast, then? To your future choices, and my bad influence?” He waits, eyeing Phillip carefully, seeing if he’s managed to convince the other man. When he sees Phillip hesitate, he adds softly, “we’ll take it in stages, if you want. Just one step at a time. And I’ll be there with you until you’re happy to fly alone. I promise.”

 “I guess I’m just a blind man after all,” Phillip quips, mostly to himself, refusing to explain when Barnum shoots him a querying look. “Slowly. Remember this is so much more than just us, Phin, and take it slowly.” He reaches for the bottle, but Barnum pulls his arm back, out of reach, a teasing smile returning to his face.

 “I can assure you, everything that we do from hereon in will be taken slowly. I don’t plan on rushing anything; not this time. I’ve learnt my lesson. And besides, if you’re the one making the decisions, they’re bound to be well thought out. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, despite what everyone says.” The latter is said with a grin, and Phillip mirrors the action, unable to resist despite the back-handedness of the compliment.

 “Well it’s good to know that one of us does.” He replies, and Barnum can’t help but laugh. “How about that toast then?” Barnum reaches back, into his top drawer, and pulls two glasses out. Phillip tries not to think about the way his body stretches back, easily more flexible than it ought to be at his age. He tries not to think about the way Barnum rights himself again, offering him a glass and pouring the liquid to a reasonable measure in his hand. He tries not to watch the smile soften on Barnum’s face as the air clears completely between them, the darkness seeming more cosy now they’re just having a drink, less hostile than it was during their argument. He tries to ignore all the feelings that rise up as he realises what he’s let himself in for, closely working with the other man until he’s able to control the circus alone. He tries to do all of this, and fails miserably.

 “To - what was it you said? My great choices and your bad influence?”

 “I don’t recall saying they were _great_ choices, exactly,” Barnum laughs, but raises his glass. They both down the drink quickly, and Barnum fills their glasses again before Phillip can protest. “How about to learning how to fly?”

 “To uncalculated risks?” Phillip counters.

 “To taking chances?” 

 “To our family?”

 “To the future?” 

 “To our success?”

With every offer, they take a drink, each taking slightly less liquor in their glass than the last, until they reach the end of the bottle, the final offer being Barnum’s. He looks carefully at Phillip, and gives his last toast carefully, eyes searching Phillip’s.

 “To you,” he states, and drinks. Phillip flushes, not from the alcohol - but from the impact the words have on him; the serious tone showing so much trust in just two words. Barnum reaches for his glass, gently tipping his hand up to his lips and forcing him to drink the toast too -although Phillip can only feel the soft pressure lightly, knows he could stop him if he wanted. He drinks, eyes shutting and submitting to the action. When the liquid has gone, Barnum’s fingers curl around the glass, taking it away and out of reach.

 “I hope I don’t disappoint you,” is all Phillip says, his breath shaking his voice, head dizzier from the touch of Barnum’s hand on his than the drink they’ve consumed.

 “You could never disappoint me, Phillip.”

 “You would be surprised.” The replying laughter is soft, disbelieving, and Phillip feels the desire to prove Barnum wrong rise within him, the way it always does when he and Barnum disagree. The alcohol lures him into a false sense of security, aided by the cosy feel of the room, and he finds himself taking a step forward, hand pressing against Barnum’s chest.  Barnum says nothing, just looks slightly surprised and amused. He makes no movement to push Phillip back, and Phillip, who knows damn well Barnum could stop him if he wanted to, takes it as a sign. His other hand reaches up to Barnum’s chin, lightly tracing the afternoon shadow that has begun to appear there.

 “Phillip-” barely a whisper of his name, and his hand stops. Phillip feels a cold dread rush over his body, this is too far, this was not what he meant to do. He wanted to disappoint Barnum, not expose himself. He goes to take a step back, hand pulling back as if catching light on Barnum’s stubble, but Barnum’s grip is there on his waist, stopping him from running too far, or maybe from stumbling over himself in haste.

 “I’ve had too much to drink,” Phillip starts to apologise, ready to excuse himself, laugh away the feelings that pull at him even now. “Let’s just-”

 “Phillip,” his name is more of a growl again, frustration in Barnum’s tone as his hand tightens. Phillip stills his movements, not meeting the older man’s eyes.

 “Phineas, please,” he starts, but Barnum’s hand on his chin, tilting his face up, stops his words. “I told you you’d be surprised.” The soft words give their honesty away, dissolving the humour with which he intends them. The fingers lifting his chin let go, sliding around to caress his hair, reassurance in the action.

 “And I told you, you make good decisions,” Barnum replies, before pulling him in to press his lips against the underside of Phillip’s chin, giving him every chance to move away. The light kisses continue a trail up to his ear, where Barnum’s fingers are entangled in his hair, and he whispers, “tell me to stop, and I will.”

 “Phin…” Phillip gives him the briefest shake of the head, tilting back and capturing Barnum’s mouth with his own, silencing the questions, the uncertainty. He feels Barnum’s hand around his waist pull him closer, into the desk, his own hand tangling into the older man’s hair. His chest presses flush against Barnum’s, fingers trapped between the two beating hearts that seem to thud heavily with every movement. He can feel Barnum’s arm around his back supporting him as they kiss, the same strength there that had pulled beams from his body as the world burnt around them. As he breathes in against Barnum’s lips, he almost tastes the smokey ash again, and pulls back, desperate for fresh air, the dizziness hounding him unrelentingly.

 “Phillip,” Barnum’s lips against his cheek, his forehead resting against Phillip’s, just breathing with him, inhaling the same uncertainty that Phillip is. They stay that way for a moment, listening to each other, holding onto each other, hands lightly touching whatever they can, wherever they are.

 “I want you, Phineas,” Phillip whispers, a sadness in his tone, but resolve backing his words, “but not just for one night. If this isn’t going to happen again, I have to go now, because I won’t be able to if we carry on. And I’m not going to abandon our family for this, however much I want it.” His fingers curl around a lock of Barnum’s hair, the temptation to just reach forward, kiss him again and forget everyone else so close he can taste it; but he waits. He waits and feels Barnum move back, hears the sound of the desk beneath him creak, settling  under the weight of the man atop it. The loss of his skin pressing against Phillip makes the younger man shiver, fear that he’s lost the one chance he had, wishing he could take it back already. But he means what he says, and when he meets Barnum’s eyes there’s no regret in them for saying it.

 “Observation is something we need to work on, if that’s truly how you think I would behave, Phillip.” His voice isn’t hurt though, and it’s clear he understands the gravity of what Phillip is asking. “I nearly lost you once, I’m not stupid enough to risk it again. _You_ were what I nearly lost in the fire.” He lets go of Phillip’s hair, the back of his hand stroking his cheek, until he’s cupping it again, and Phillip can’t resist leaning into the warmth there. “And I would rather be here with you, with our family, than anywhere else.”

 “Charity?” The last straw holding him back, the last thing stopping Phillip grabbing Barnum with both hands and using the desk as a bed.

 “She…”

 “She’s a good woman, Phineas, I won’t let you break her heart again - not for me, I’m not worth that.” Phillip interrupts, anger rising at the thought Barnum would ever hurt Charity in such a way. “Whilst you were gone she was here, helping when I needed it and I don’t- I don’t think I could face her again if you expected me to behave like that.”

 “I would never, Phillip. What a scoundrel you must think I am,” he laughs, softly, “why would you want to be involved with someone who would do such a thing.” Barnum shakes his head. “We’ve separated. After Jenny - she asked it of me. Let’s, she said, be friends, Phineas. But let’s not be lovers again. We want separate things. And she’s right. I want my girls, and I want the circus, and - to an extent, her. But she’s smart. She knows me well. I’m not in love with her. Not the way I am the show.” He pauses, eyes searching Phillip’s face as he adds to his confession, “Not the way I-” a hand covers his mouth suddenly, as though Phillip already knows where the sentence is going, and doesn’t want to hear it.

 “Don’t spoil me too early on, you’ll regret it.” He quips, but there’s a flush across his cheeks that shows his pleasure. He turns, placing kisses against Barnum’s palm, lips hungrily trailing up his fingers, guiding them into his mouth, eyes deliberately flicking back to meet Barnum’s as he does so. Barnum swallows, breath hitching as Phillip removes the hand covering his mouth, using it to pull him into a kiss, body pushing hard against the wooden desk in an attempt to get closer as he deepens the kiss. Barnum’s hand slides around the back of his head, cradling him and pulling himself closer to the edge, body as close to Phillip’s as it can get. Phillip feels the exhale of tension leave his spine, melting into the arm supporting him as they kiss. Every part of him is on edge, desperate for more, for something he’s wanted for a long time.

 Barnum’s lips leave his, reaching instead to press starved kisses down the length of his neck, desperate to taste every part of him that he can. He stops only when he reaches the collar of Phillip’s shirt, listening to the heaviness of Phillip’s breathing as he fumbles with the buttons, cursing a little as his desperation stalls them. After several seconds of frustration, he gives up and begins to tug at the fabric, ready to rip the buttons from it if need be. Phillip’s laugh stills his movement, and Barnum’s hands are covered with his.

 “Phineas, don’t ruin my clothes,” Phillip scoffs, slowly undoing the troublesome buttons, working around the fingers that are already reaching under the collar, feeling the skin there and claiming it. “I can’t just buy new shirts when I feel like it, remember, I was disinherited. And we’re doing ok, profit wise, but we’re not doing that well-” Barnum cuts him off with a kiss.

 “Phillip, as much as I enjoy how _deeply_ involved in our work you are, this, really, is not the time to be discussing it.” His hands push back the shirt from Phillip’s chest, taking in every inch as it unveils, eyes lingering over the scars that mar his otherwise perfect skin. Phillip allows him a moment to just look, before reaching up and kissing him once more, fingers nimbly unbuttoning Barnum’s top in retaliation. Barnum takes hold of his hips, fingers on the waistband of his trousers, pulling him back in as close as he can.

 “Oh I don’t know,” Phillip states, breaking from the kiss to get a better access to the lower buttons, “I can’t imagine anything more exciting to do right now than examine figures in depth.” Barnum groans in disapproval, but there’s a smile on his face as he returns to kissing Phillip’s neck.

 “I think,” he says, between kisses, “the only figure I want to examine in depth is yours, Phillip, and it’s got nothing to do with work.” His mouth moves down, across Phillip’s chest in a trail of soft kisses, his hands betraying his desperation by following the waistband round to Phillip’s back and down, gripping what he can through the fabric. Phillip’s hands tighten around Barnum’s shoulders as Barnum attempts to move further downwards, the angle making it nearly impossible to get as low as he wishes. Pulling back, he slides off the desk, and kisses Phillip hard to distract him as he rotates their positions. Phillip’s hands catch onto the desk edge as he’s forced back with the deepening kiss, trying to find support. The solid edge of the wood slamming into his thighs buckles his legs a little, and he finds himself leaning back, steadying himself as Barnum returns to littering kisses down his chest, lowering himself down. It takes but a moment for him to reach the front of Phillip’s trousers, pausing a moment to glance up at the younger man, take him in from the new angle on his knees.

 “God, Phin,” Phillip’s voice is barely a breath as Barnum begins to unbutton him slowly, tugging his trousers down and halting suddenly when he realises that Phillip has nothing on beneath. When Barnum doesn’t continue, Phillip glances down, wondering if maybe this was too fast, too far, too much all at once. “Phin?” He asks, reaching down with a hand to break Barnum from his frozen state. The grin that meets his gaze, the light bemusement on Barnum’s face, relieves his nerves instantly, and he flushes, realizing the pause had come from enjoyment, not fear, on the older man’s part.

 “Phillip Carlyle, I always thought you had the devil about you, and now I know why,” he laughs, words sending heat across the skin of Phillip’s thighs. “Easy access?” He teases, fingers touching along the line of his hip, deliberately avoiding his hardening cock.

 “It’s impractical to - ” Phillip’s explanation is cut off sharply as Barnum’s tongue follows where his fingers had been, travelling along his skin until it meets with dark hair, nose inhaling the scent that’s purely his own. Phillip bites his lip hard, resisting the urge to push back against Barnum’s mouth as it begins to press kisses down, down underneath, hand holding his hips still. Teeth gently toy with his flesh, bringing sensations with it that emit a soft whine of approval, mortifying Phillip as it escapes. Barnum’s fingers dig deeper into his hip, the sound encouraging his mouth to suck the loose skin where his teeth had been. Phillip grips the wood of the desk behind him, surprised at how easy Barnum is finding it to take him apart with barely anything.

 “Oh god-where did you learn such-” his ability to speak vanishes as Barnum deliberately licks the underside of his cock, from hilt to tip, tongue slightly rough from lack of saliva but with just the right amount of pressure. Before he can try to continue, Barnum takes the head into his mouth, deliberately igniting the nerves there, hand still pressing Phillip back, refusing to let him take control. Phillip’s eyes shut as Barnum’s tongue circles the tip, massaging it, gently sucking as he does so. The soft pressure is slow, almost too slow for Phillip’s liking, but then suddenly Barnum is taking him fully in the mouth, lips and tongue swallowing him in only to pull back just as fast. The sensation of cold air against his now wet skin is sharp, contrasting deeply with the warmth of Barnum’s lips and mouth moving around him. He repeats the action a few times, before taking Phillip in hand to continue the pressure as he returns to using his tongue on the skin beneath.

 “Phin,” Phillip’s hands grip the wood hard behind him, and it creaks in retaliation, the weight of Phillip’s full body pressing into it. Barnum takes his name as the plea that it is and returns to sucking down as much of Phillip’s cock as he can, hand still massaging what his tongue can’t. Nails scrape against the strong varnish of Barnum’s desk as Phillip finds his body liquefying further with every action. It feels an embarrassingly short time before Phillip recognises the pre-warning sensations he knows well, and it’s a broken choke of “Phineas-” that gives Barnum that same warning. Phillip is shocked when the older man doesn’t bother to edge away, instead swallows what he can before pulling back, ending up with Phillip’s climax partially covering his lips. Phillip feels his legs all but give out at the sight, and he can’t help but reach down to kiss Barnum hungrily, possessively.

 “Phillip,” Barnum’s voice breaks the kiss, hands on his loosened collar, holding him close, but there his words run out, uncertain how to phrase what he wants to ask.

 “Suddenly shy, Barnum? Have I finally rendered you speechless?” Phillip removes Barnum’s fingers from around his neck and slides away from the desk to join the other man on the floor, knees resting either side of Barnum’s. “You have me, Phineas, I won’t refuse you.” He whispers the reassuring words directly into Barnum’s ear, teeth grazing the soft flesh, biting the lobe playfully as his hands begin to reach inside his trousers.

 “God Phillip, do you even know what you’re offering?” Barnum replies, capturing Phillip’s face and holding him still, a serious look in his eyes. The rush of adrenaline softens, and Phillip kisses him again, slower, pushing him backwards, forcing him to lie down. Barnum’s hands drop to his waist, holding onto his hips, not wanting to break their skin to skin contact. Phillip’s weight shifts, feeling Barnum’s legs unfurl beneath his hips, and he presses down, mimicking the action he already knows will follow shortly.

 “What kind of life do you think I have lived exactly Barnum? I’m no blushing bride, for God’s sake. I might not have… a wealth of experiences, but I’m not entirely new to this.” He repeats the action slowly, deliberately pressing his body into Barnum’s. The moan Barnum lets slip is delicious to his ears, and he repeats it again, hoping to elicit another, but Barnum holds him still, rising a little.

 “Then you know that we need something to help,” he nods to the desk behind them, then meets Phillip’s eyes, “unless you want to feel it for days.”

 “Who’s to say I don’t?” Phillip teases, pushing back again, harder this time. Barnum arches against him, groaning at the touch, but shakes his head.

 “Maybe next time, but this time I want lubrication. I’m not risking it now, when I’m so close to having you.” He meets the sigh of disapproval with a bemused smile, hand reaching up to push back Phillip’s hair. “You’ll enjoy it more this way, trust me. There’s oil in the dresser; that should work.” He pulls Phillip down by the edge of his collar to give him a quick kiss, rolling his hips up as he does so. The movement jostles Phillip enough to break the kiss, and he laughs, getting up. It takes just a few minutes to locate the bottle he’s after, but when he turns back to Barnum, he’s surprised to see the older man’s trousers pushed aside and underwear completely missing. The sight of Barnum on the floor, naked and staring up at him with a hungry, amused desire almost has him stop in his tracks. But then his eyes spot the socks still riding up from his feet and he finds himself unable to resist laughing.

 “Let it never be said, Phin, that you don’t know how to embrace a moment.” He discards his own lax trousers and shirt, pointedly removing his own socks as he sits down beside the older man. “We’re taking those off,” he states, hands reaching for the socks, but Barnum grabs for his hand and pulls him into another kiss instead, preventing his success. Instead he finds himself being pushed back whilst Barnum breaks away and begins kissing down his neck, hand travelling down to get the bottle and knock out the stopper. Phillip allows Barnum to push him, back hitting the floor gently and finding himself caged underneath the other man’s naked body.

 “Phillip,” Barnum asks, between kisses, “don’t think I’m asking out of jealousy, but tell me,” he continues, pressing his lips to the soft skin of Phillip’s chest, brushing the edge of his scars, light kisses before finally looking up to meet his glance.“How much experience, exactly, have you had with a man? I don’t want to hurt you, but…” a slightly reluctant look passes his face, and he pushes his hips down, allowing Phillip to feel his excitement flush against his thigh, “but I’ll not lie about how much I want to have you.”

 “You’re not the first,” Phillip replies reassuringly, hand reaching to caress Barnum’s face, “but it’s been … a while.” He stretches his hips up, enjoying the sensation of Barnum’s body so close to his own, every movement making Barnum’s cock twitch with desire. “As long as you start slow, I can take the rest.”

 “Thank god.” There’s an almost breathless urgency to the way Barnum coats his fingertips with oil, liberally pouring it, covering Phillip in the process. He presses forward with another kiss, fingers sliding down to where Phillip’s cock is reviving, teasing it lightly before moving on. Phillip gasps against his lips as he feels the first finger inside of him, but presses back against the palm connected, already impatient for more.

 “Phin,” he urges, as the older man slowly teases him loose, just enjoying the sensation of being that intimate. “I know I said start slow but… not a blushing bride, remember?” He pushes against the hand again, eyebrow raising pointedly. Barnum laughs, capturing his lips again and adding a second finger, movement all in one. He teases him a little more before adding a third, amused by the look of surprise that contrasts so perfectly with the groan Phillip releases into his mouth.

 “So eager,” Barnum muses into his ear, layering kiss upon kiss over his neck, throat, shoulders. He continues to feel Phillip inside as he travels down to his nipples, biting one as he presses harder, twisting and curling his fingers whilst moving against him. Phillip arches up, incoherent words gasped from his lips as Barnum takes his hand away, leaving nothing but an empty feeling behind.

 “Phineas,” is all he gets out before he feels Barnum push into him, the action somehow still a shock to his system. The whimper that falls from his lips is quickly replaced by a moan as Barnum moves, slow pressure against his body until he’s reaching over, meeting Phillip and kissing him hungrily. For a second Barnum stills, enraptured in the warmth of Phillip’s body, and then he breaks the kiss, desperate for friction.

 Phillip lets out a soft cry of relief as he begins to move inside of him, legs wrapping around Barnum’s waist to pull him closer, hips raising off the floor to accommodate him. The sounds Phillip makes as Barnum moves just encourage his pace, hands supporting Phillip’s body by holding onto his hips, gripping him tightly. Phillip’s hands reach for him, but fall instead overhead to the desk, using it to press back against, the strength in his arms holding his body in place. Briefly Barnum lets go and touches Phillip’s face, eyes taking in the ecstasy on his face, the flustered enjoyment of truly letting himself go, before travelling his hand down to massage his cock again, oil still slick on his fingers from before.

 Phillip arches at the touch, into his hand, changing the angle and suddenly having his breath taken away when Barnum moves inside of him again. His eyes water and he curses, sensitivity at the motion escalated as he feels something in him blaze alight.

 “Fuck Phineas-” Barnum laughs above him, slowing his pace a little to deliberately repeat the action a few times, the younger man’s body tightening around him desperately as he does so. “Wha- oh god, Phineas,” the words stream from his mouth incoherently, hand banging desperately against the wood of the desk behind him as he becomes more overcome, “please,” he cries, begging Barnum to return to his faster pace. Finally Barnum relents, taking his hand from Phillip’s already dripping cock to grab his hips again, give him more support as he speeds up.  With each movement, Phillip can feel himself weakening, close to a second release he didn’t think he could manage so soon after the first; this time without even a hand or mouth to help. He starts to speak but the words are swallowed by a wave of pleasure, tightening his body around Barnum as he climaxes. Barnum moans at the sensation, his own movements quickening, own pleasure just out of reach. Phillip squeezes his legs around Barnum’s waist, pressing back against his hips as he feels the ringmaster filling him, eyes hazy as he gazes up at him.

 “Fuck, Phillip, the way you look right now…” Barnum groans, the soft eyed look Phillip shoots him, hair tousled from their actions and body coated in his own enjoyment, sending him over the edge into his own climax. Phillip’s breath thickens as he feels Barnum inside of him, warmth spreading throughout his entire body as he rides the wave of emotions that come along with the sensation.  He drops his arms to the floor, body relaxing as Barnum pulls out slowly and carefully lowers his hips to the ground.

 “Oh,” he struggles not to let the word sound like a whine, the loss of the warmth inside of him making him needy, but the neediness evaporates as Barnum presses his lips against Phillip’s again, lying down beside him, nearly atop of him. His hands shake as he frames Phillip’s face, fingers pushing back the hair that falls over his eyes, kiss deepening and body pressing against his sticky skin.

 When Phillip breaks the kiss, he takes a moment to just stare at the older man, takes in the joy that shines from his eyes, directed only at him. His fingertips gently trace the line of Barnum’s chin, body subconsciously twisting to his to be as close as possible.

 “You’re beautiful, you know?” Barnum states, softly now the urgency of lust has disappeared between them. He presses a kiss to Phillip’s flushing cheek, as if to reassure them both that he’s there, it’s true, they’re not drunk dreaming. “I knew that the day I first saw you but this close, it’s impossible not to mention.” Phillip chuckles, slight embarrassment covering his face as he rebuffs the compliment.

 “You’ve already had me, Barnum, you don’t need to sweet talk me now.”

 “If that’s all it would’ve taken I’d have mentioned it long ago,” Barnum jokes back, but the way he lets his hands caress Phillip’s hair, the soft touch that trails down to his back, indicates something else entirely. A note of concern enters his tone, “I hope that was-”

 “Everything, Phineas. It was everything.” Phillip’s quietens his doubts with another kiss, which turns into a few more, reigniting a little of the passion they’ve just shared. Barnum breaks away, head lying back on the floor, taking back the breath Phillip has just stolen.

 “I’m glad.” He states, pleasure in his voice as Phillip begins to press small kisses along his collar bone, leading downwards, until Barnum’s hand stops him, stroking his hair. Phillip takes the hint and rests his head against his chest, just enjoying the closeness. Barnum smiles up at the ceiling and adds, teasingly, “I told you you make good decisions. That was your best yet.”

 “No,” Phillip disagrees, sounding serious as he looks across to meet Barnum’s eyes, “the best decision I’ve made was to go for a drink with a crazy man in charge of a circus. Without that, none of this would’ve been possible. Following you has always been the best decision I’ve ever made.” He smiles, a little self mockingly, “I told you. Every decision I made since has been with _you_ in mind.”

 “I hope that continues, then, into our future. Because as far as I can see they’ve all worked out _amazingly_.” Phillip laughs against his chest, shutting his eyes and shaking his head lightly in disagreement. But he doesn’t say anything to contradict Barnum, instead he sighs softly, just enjoying the closeness between them before he begins to let the worries about the rest of the world creep back in. A thought passes his mind as he lulls to the sound of Barnum’s breathing, the softness of fingertips in his hair.

 “We do need to look at those merchandise figures, though- ” Barnum shifts slightly, sitting up a little, and shoots him a look of incredulity. Phillip gives him a wide, relaxed smile, laughing as he does so. “But it can wait.”

 “Maybe tomorrow. After breakfast.”  Barnum shifts again, gently rising to a full upright position. “But we should head home, at least try to get a nights sleep before we do.” There’s a slight pause, as Phillip stills, uncertainty crossing his face as he sits up.

 “Home?”

 “I’m not planning on sleeping on this floor, as enticing as it seems right this minute.” Barnum reaches over to his discarded clothes, starting to dress himself. Phillip still doesn’t move, heart thudding heavily against his chest as the ambiguity of the statement spins in his head. It isn’t until Barnum has pulled his trousers on and is fully dressed that he realises that Phillip is so still. “Phillip?” Phillip slowly gathers his clothes, languid movements that hesitate at every option. Barnum stares at him for a moment, then reaches for his hand, stopping him as he begins to button his shirt. “If you don’t wish me to stay, that’s-”

 “You meant to join me?” Phillip’s relief is vibrant, and Barnum realizes his mistake.

 “I assumed I would, yes.” He smiles, eyes warming at how Phillip lights up again with the suggestion, “if you’re ok with sharing your drafty caravan with me, then I have no intention of sleeping without you,” he presses a kiss to Phillip’s lips, “ever again.”

 “I think I can manage that, Mr Barnum,” Phillip smirks, but it’s soft, barely any sting in its tail. “After all, what’s one more decision based on your bad influence at this point?”

“ _Great_ decision,” Barnum corrects him, laughing and kissing him again, “one more _great_ decision."


End file.
